


"Had my wisdom teeth out recently, ruthless stuff!"

by trackfive



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Cute, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Married Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Post-Hiatus, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wisdom Teeth, aka march 2021, and he's a big fan of the anesthesia, if you're lookin for fluffy nonsense you're in the right place, louis gets his wisdom teeth out, the most chaotic husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:54:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29827323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trackfive/pseuds/trackfive
Summary: post-anesthesia louis is a goofy mess who most definitely can't be trusted on twitter, and harry is thankful for the endless patience of nurses...and for coco pops.aka the lovechild of louis' recent tweet and the author's exam procrastination
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 27
Kudos: 157





	"Had my wisdom teeth out recently, ruthless stuff!"

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this to avoid studying for my neuroscience exam and because i absolutely adore louis
> 
> [update: failed the exam, dropping the course...love to see it!]

All he could hear was giggling.

It was a sound that Harry could pick out of a crowd, but in the eerily empty office he didn’t have to. The laughs echoed from the back rooms all the way up to the waiting area where only he and the receptionist were sat. There was nothing but the clicking of keys and turning of pages to distract Harry from his mounting nerves, but when laughter floated his way the knots in his stomach loosened.

He put his book away to listen in, marking the page with the leaf that Louis always teased him for because _we’ve more than enough money to buy a fuckin’ bookmark, love._ No amount of convincing seemed to work on him, so Louis learned how to press flowers instead - ever since then, Harry would always find a new leaf or petal tucked within the pages of his current read.

Door hinges squeaked, and the nurse who stepped out asked for a _Mr. Tomlinson,_ beckoning him over. Hearing the name still gave him butterflies even after all these years, but it felt too formal. Having lost a decade of normalcy on behalf of being **Harry Styles** led him to appreciate every ordinary moment he came across more than even he thought was possible. In the few _normal_ moments of his life he wanted to be a _normal man_ , but things felt all too 'Hollywood' any time his surname was used.

“Just Harry’s fine, love,” he mumbled, nervous despite all signs pointing positive.

It didn’t seem as though anything was wrong on account of the ridiculous laughter, but he knew his stomach would stay twisted up until he got Louis back in his arms. Not knowing how he would react to anesthesia had Harry worrying the whole week up until he got his wisdom teeth out, and being confronted with it head-on meant he spent the last hour and a half bouncing his leg and fidgeting with his keys.

“Is he being a handful?” Harry bit his lip, hoping he wouldn’t have to apologize for all too much of Louis’ drugged-up behavior, whatever it might have been.

“No, actually, not at all. He’s just,” he could hear the smile in her voice when she stopped them outside of a room, “adorable.”

From the gap in the door came the unmistakable, incredibly loud voice of his husband. She knocked and pushed it open for him - Louis, still hooked up to a monitor, was talking loudly to a young woman who Harry thought must have been the most patient nurse in the entire world. The girl stood by, smiling and giggling along with Louis as he rambled on about something Harry really hoped was vaguely appropriate at the very least.

“An’ y’kn’w wha’, I might jus’ ‘ave t’get me a-“

Halfway through his rant, she interrupted him with a hand on his shoulder, pointing at the door. Louis’ jaw dropped, though it didn’t make much of a difference as his mouth was already wide open, stuffed to the brim with gauze. Harry was confused, looking back and forth between the nurses for an explanation and hoping everything was alright.

“H’rry? Fr’m one d’rection?” It took a long second of incredulity for Harry to process the situation, but when he caught on he breathed out a laugh.

“S’it r’lly you?”

Harry pulled down his mask and gave a huge, dimpled smile accompanied by a little peace sign.

“ _Wow_ …bu’ y’r _famous_.” Louis gawked at him.

“Guess you could say so, love, yeah.”

Harry readjusted the mask around his face, trying to hide the laughter that was rapidly bubbling up. He wanted to play along to see where it got him, as he was already rather entertained not even thirty seconds in to meeting this loopy version of his boy. It was lucky for him that he did because Louis, in what he clearly thought was a stage whisper, turned to one of the nurses and pointed right at Harry.

“Didn’ think he’s act’lly ‘ere, thought y’r tak’n th’ f’ckin piss, mate…Mary, tha’s th’ one I got'a crush on! But don’ tell ‘im, babes, wan’ t'play it cool, yeh?”

Almost every word he said was distorted by gauze and novocaine, but that didn’t deter him from sharing what was likely every single thought he had. Louis still pointed with his arm fully extended, but when Harry stepped over the threshold, he put his arm down, suddenly shy, and instead poked at his tingling lips.

“Hi, darling - oh, I don’t think we should be doing that.” When he grabbed Louis’ hand and held it, the man looked to be over the moon. It turned out ‘playing it cool’ wasn’t his strong suit.

“Mr H’rysyle, m’name Loui’omlissnon, an’ I think s’real cool tha’ y’r ‘ere wit' m’teeth.”

“Well it was truly an honor to be invited, love - quite an exclusive event, I heard. How are you feeling?”

Harry fonded over him like crazy, unable to contain himself the way they often had to when out and about. The raucous giggles started up again when Harry stroked his hair, Louis positively shaking with silent laughter.

“D’y’know I always want’d t’be a sing’r? _Y’re_ one d’rectn,” he got out between breaths.

“ _I'm_ One Direction? How'd you find me out? Very clever one, aren’t you. And I bet you’ve got a lovely voice, could probably join the band ‘f you’d like,” he laughed quietly and moved his hand from Louis’ hair down to squeeze his shoulder. “But how are you feeling, Lou?”

“Oh, m’feel’n f’ckin _ace_ , lad an’ I don’ave a crush on you, mate, don’ ev’n listen t’Mary.”

“Oh, of course not - only your word, darling,” he winked at the girl at Louis' side, cracking her composure as she tried to hide how star-struck she was.

The room quieted when Louis took to staring up at Harry as if he was the only thing in the world. He laughed quietly to himself while Harry made small talk with the two girls. Hearing the chaos dip down, his surgeon took the opportunity to pop in with a few instructional papers to hand over. Harry greeted them politely, and they explained everything to prepare him for the aftercare - he took down copious notes on the pages, wanting to be fully prepared for anything Louis' recovery might throw at him.

Harry could hear Louis being gently yet frequently chastised for touching his face. Knowing that it was most likely an attempt to get his attention, he excused himself for a moment, lacing his fingers through Louis’ and shushing him softly. That seemed to be enough to keep him occupied for a while; there was time to swap out his already bled-through gauze while the doctor continued their spiel as he watched the back of Harry's head in awe. Right when they were about to finish up, Louis slapped incessantly at Harry’s arm. Once again he apologized to the doctor, but they waved it away, telling him to take his time.

“C’n I tell y’ a secret Mr H’rry Syle?”

“Of course, love. What’s goin’ on?” Louis tugged him down by the hand, surprisingly strong for someone who couldn’t say his own name correctly.

“I t’ld y’tha’ I don’ f'ncy you bu’ tha’s a load ‘f f’ckin rubbish ‘cos I got'a crush on y'mate. Prop’r _massive_ one an’ I ev’n told Mary ‘bout it, ask’er ri’now! An’...an' y’got a nice bum. Tha’s m’secret.” He nodded with finality, not unlike the way Harry’s toddler godchildren did at the end of their long-winded, nonsensical stories.

“Wow, that’s one serious secret. Can I tell _you_ a secret, Mr Louis Tomlinson? I’ve got a proper massive crush on you too, that's why I took your surname,” he wiggled his fingers of his free hand to show off his wedding band and Louis whipped his whole torso forward.

“W're _married_?” Louis yelled louder than Harry would have thought possible for someone with a mouth full of cotton. Harry guided him to lay back, shushing him and laying a hand on his chest. “Tha’s f’ckin sick! How l’ng?”

“Seven years, darling.”

“ _Sev'n?”_

“Seven. And a half.”

“ _Wow_. ’M th’luckiest ev’r in th'world, y’know tha’, Mare? Won th’ bloody lott’ry, I did. S'tha' make me th' wife? 'Cos I'd b-”

Harry rolled his eyes affectionately and blocked him out. As he finished up with the doctor, he thanked them profusely, apologizing for the complete loss of manners while absentmindedly scratching at Louis’ head. They assured him it was _not a problem, Mr Tomlinson, I'll see you in a week for those stitches_. It was only then that Harry honed in on the conversation behind him and his face burned scarlet.

“…more l’ke on’ _erect'on_ , ‘cos he’s so fit I’d shag ‘im righ’ere, righ’now." Harry frantically tried to stop him, but getting his attention didn't seem to change his course too far.

“H’ry c’n we g’home? Wanna see y’r boobs, mate…s’it _boobs_ or _poobs_?”

“Louis!” Frozen in place, Harry didn’t know whether to scold him or die laughing - that had rendered him speechless. The content of his ramblings wasn't particularly shocking - drunk Louis is a known oversharer - but this was not the time or place to talk about topping him _or_ getting him naked. Though he was aware they knew it was on account of the anaesthetic, Harry still felt the need to apologize to the girls; his face must have said more than enough, even half-hidden behind the mask.

“Don’t even worry about it, Mr Tomlinson,” Mary laughed. “He’s been quite the gentleman, I promise.”

“Are you sure? He’s a bit… _unfiltered_ as is, so I can’t imagine...”

“Oh, we’ve heard much worse, trust me.”

With the way the two looked at each other, clearly reliving some disturbing shared memory, Harry decided that he was allowed to laugh. Though wildly inappropriate, Louis' boob nonsense was harmless and, truth be told, incredibly funny. Harry had to turn back to the hands tugging at his belt loops, Louis jealously demanding his full attention. Lowering himself to eye-level, Harry laid a hand on his chest and broke the news.

“Now I’m so sorry to let you down, honey, but I don’t own any boobs.”

“ _None?"_

“Not a single one,” he deadpanned, and Louis was scandalized. “But if I remember right, love, you’re quite gay...so that’s kind of the point. C’mon, let’s get you home.”

Each of Harry's continued apologies was refused as the three of them worked to get a very floppy Louis to sit upright, insisting they were absolutely unnecessary.

“He’s such a sweetheart. Truly, Harry, it’s been a pleasure.” Mary subtly whacked her coworker on the arm with a gasp and a muttered _proper names_ , but Harry put up a hand.

“Please, I really prefer just Harry. Like, I dunno, I’m just some guy, y’know? And he’s just some sweet little idiot, right Lou?”

Ruffling his hair brought the Louis back to reality a bit and he gave a dopey _fuck yeah, baby_ in response. The ultra-professional aura around them fell away, and Harry hadn’t noticed how nervously they had been carrying themselves until their shoulders dropped. He and Louis got that reaction a lot, and it always made him feel a little bad, but seeing how they’d been nothing but relaxed and smiley with his _also_ _famous_ Louis made up for it. It was clear that the energy had shifted some because as they untangled Louis from various cords, Mary turned to him.

“You two are really cute together,” the words spilled out of her and she kept her voice low as if she wasn’t sure that she was allowed to say it, “and he’s _ridiculously_ in love with you.”

Harry breathed out a laugh and ran a hand through his hair, shy smile hidden behind his mask.

“Thank you very much.”

Settling a mask over Louis’ face was a bit of a struggle as he kept trying to bite it while threatening to fight all three of them, but the promise of 'two-thousand Coco Pops milkshakes' was enough to sway him. Initially they tried having him walk side-by-side with Harry, but after his fourth time nearly collapsing in a fit of body-shaking laughter, Harry effortlessly scooped him up bridal-style. Louis begged him to wait so he could say goodbye to the nurses, his _besties_ , who laughed as they wished the two well, faces both going pink. The second the door closed, Harry heard them freak out, finally allowed to acknowledge everything that just happened. He chuckled and made a note to send them some kind of thank-you gift for putting up with the chaos that was the man in his arms _._

“Did y’know ‘m y’r bigges’fan, Mr me husb’nd H’ry Tomnisoln.” He pulled at Harry’s mask, stretching it and snapping it back a few times.

“Is that so? Leave that alone, please,” Harry gently set him in the passenger seat, buckling him up. “But what a crazy coincidence because _I_ am _your_ biggest fan, Mr My Husband Louis Tomlinson. You have to stop talking now, remember?” He shut the door, not before kissing Louis on the forehead, but he could still hear incomprehensible whining even from outside the car that didn’t stop until he started the engine.

“You want your mask off? C’mere, look at me.” Harry slipped it off, being careful to avoid bumping his mouth, and hung it over the mirror before sliding his own to his chin.

“Sing,” Louis demanded.

“You wanna sing or you want me to sing?"

“You. Wh’re’s m’Twitt’r?

“No phone until tomorrow, love.” He glanced up from his Spotify to see Louis feeling his tongue, poking at it with every finger. “Baby, no, that’s gross. I know it feels funny, but please wait until you’ve washed your hands. Stop it, Louis.” He flopped his hands dramatically in his lap and sniffed, on the verge of tears within seconds.

“I’m so sorry, my love, but dirty fingers can get you ill. We don’t want that now, do we?” Louis shook his head and Harry leaned over the console to plant a kiss on his forehead. When Louis tilted his chin up to ask for _real_ kisses, Harry shook his head and wrinkled his nose playfully. "No thanks, you'd just drool all over me. _But_ I promise I’ll sing for you if you sit back and turn off your pretty little voice for a bit, hm?”

Despite his angry pout, Louis nodded silently. Harry sighed when he immediately started jabbing far too hard at his still-numbed chin. He needed a way to keep Louis' hands occupied for the duration of the trip home - hoping he truly was as doped-up as he seemed, Harry reached to grab a balled up pair of old, dirty football socks from the back seat and held them in cupped hands.

“I’ve got a little job for you, baby. Do you think you can hold this for me? It's _really_ important and I’m afraid it'll get lost back there all on its own.” Louis' eyes widened and he nodded earnestly. Harry placed them in the waiting palms, theatrically careful as if transferring a mug filled to the top with hot water. “Thank you, darling! Such a big help - both hands now, alright? And no talking until we get home.”

Louis nodded, and Harry kissed the tip of his nose.

"Let's go make you that milkshake, hm?"

**Author's Note:**

> gotta go learn four weeks of class lectures before 5pm tomorrow! i hope you all have a great rest of the week - treat yourself to something nice, no matter how small <3


End file.
